


The endling and the terminarch

by Harmonica_Smile (Rescue_Remedy)



Series: Law's Hybrid Collections [7]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst and Humor, Background Dressrosa, CPO (mentioned), Canon Divergence, Character Study, Complete, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, LawBin, Light Angst, One Shot, Past Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Rainy Day Reflections, Rare Pairings, Romance, very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 14:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18967522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rescue_Remedy/pseuds/Harmonica_Smile
Summary: Four years between them and four centimetres in height, both wore heels when chasing monsters so the ratio was maintained. A little was lost when standing barefoot, facing one another, in their living room, rain tapping against the windows.





	The endling and the terminarch

**Author's Note:**

> Just some sweet LawBin for you.

* * *

**The endling and the terminarch**

* * *

Blue, kinda blue. Cigarette smoke stack curls unfurls trumpet spread like a hand of cards, one hidden up the sleeve to wipe the floor the table with a quick wink, a sly trick, she leans into his palm on her lower back against the triangle seam of the little black dress. Hah.

Four years between them and four centimetres in height. Metric soulmates. Rain streaks the panes of their living room, replacing clear glass with frosted to give them this moment alone. Four floors above the city. They don't need the rain.

West-blue-black warmed by the sun — a heat his scrawl of North-blue-black kinks and knots seeks. Needs. Not quite peas in a pod. Translucent, sombre, velvet, love and disregard for crayon drawings. As a child he left sandwiches unwrapped and mouldy in the bottom of his schoolbag (or fed them to Buffalo). She ordered them especially when she could.

When Robin looks up at him, sometimes it's like sitting at the bottom of a well and seeing stars in broad daylight. Not because of height, there's barely a sneeze between them.

He knows she can snap necks and hold dead weight, which he would've been if Doflamingo had succeeded in his  _mercy_  killing, if she hadn't caught him. Forgiven by death. Joker's cognition sticky like new year's omochi pounded and turned.

"You were nervous when CPO walked through town." He speaks into her cheek, holds her. There'd been a report on yet another reverie and Rob Lucci appeared and disappeared from the cameras — silent bodyguards to dragons who'd have their pirate heads for witnessing government crimes.

"You knew who they were." Like yesterday, Dressrosa creeps in — wind rattling the fly screen against its frame.

Law tilts his head in agreement. No point in not being informed. Serious stuff always hidden like the disease that didn't get to wipe out his town. She loves him for it.

"Feel safe now?" he asks.

She moves closer. Pushing into his chest. Both barefoot in the house, she's lost a few centimetres.

They'll dance, something Viola taught her — Señor Pink had taught him — some flamenco, rhumba, tango Latin passion, that Luffy ruins with too much enthusiasm when he tries. And lack of height. That Sanji ruins with too much attention, when he tries. And lack of height.

A trace of menace and a shoe with a clip, to step forward, and back and to bring the other to you and let them go without letting them go. Law has the heels and the altitude. Anything to give him a few inches in the company of executives and corrupt kings. But she doesn't feel like unfurling right now. He doesn't feel like letting go. And their feet are quiet on the wooden floor.

"Yeah, but not because of you." Maybe it was the rain.

"The disguise didn't work?" He hadn't been feeling too confident in Dressrosa either, but there were always options — like Franky's coup de burst — and there they were, doling calm and sugar in equal measures to a panicked Caesar and Usopp and cups of tea.

Riding high from quartering Vergo, and sticking his sliced (gabby) head on a pike or two, Law had glanced around. Things weren't right. He had his tea black and unsweetened but, you know, undercover. The spoon hit the china as he stirred. The city was peaceful and cheerful despite Doflamingo's abdication, toys and humans walking hand in hand. CP0 windmilling through the streets.

She laughs. Her aviator glasses and pith-helmet-hat (cloth, mind you), his seventies porn star 'tash and shades, and running around with his chest so wide open that anyone who knew anything — aka Doflamingo and his cronies — could pinpoint who he was and where. Then again, he'd set up the rendezvous. They'd tried. One disguise was as good as the next in the world of paper doll options. Form was emptiness, emptiness form.

She runs a finger on the rough of his sideburn, and he tips his head. "Scary mofos. Masks like death-wishes," he says.

CPO — show girls hiding behind the ruffled flipped skirts of a cancan.

"The only thing they wish death on is others."

"Party poopers."

She takes his hand and wishes death upon herself with battle-worn fingers, though he can always heal himself. He argues he can when he's going out on a limb (between the two of them, they have more than a few to spare). As if deciding to blow up a factory, and level another, and take down a few warlords and emperors was the epitome of prudence.

He plans but punts when needed, so she takes what he says with a dash of salt and judges him on the tangible, like swapping a hurtling, knocked-out Luffy from the sky to a rooftop ledge.

"Why didn't they hunt you down, Law, when they knew the fruit and a boy had vamoosed?" She rests her hands under his arms now, the skin on his elbows like camel hides. Easy to forget the out of sight. Bit slack for a surgeon. His shirt is musty with the closer weather. Laundry day, but nothing will dry.

Haven't they had this discussion? Instead of pushing his own hair back he clips that wayward kink behind her ear. The first time he saw her she had a fringe.

"Doflamingo thought the marines had me. Vergo would've set him right. Heart seat was kept for me." Law's voice tightens with disgust. Robin brushes her fingers on his Adam's apple and he brings himself back to the room with the tap of the wind outside. Gotta get that flyscreen fixed.

"But just lucky with the marines I guess." Why Sengoku didn't track him down out of sorrow or vengeance he didn't know. Curiosity. He holds her close because so few have, and she'll send anyone else flying if they try, but Law's earned it. "Sorry you had to run for so long."

She had a Bounty at eight, Law was a pirate at ten, then again Dellinger was practically born into it. But Robin had no Wolf, no guardian once everything was taken from her. Dellinger had Jora, had the family, as fucked up as they could be.

"I found a way."

"Croc would've been nothing without you."

"You weren't there."

"From what I heard."

And she trusted his sources.

"Maybe I don't want that on my CV, Surgeon of Death."

"Ouch." Point taken.

It got them where they were. Law raises his left arm to the side of his body and brings the other to rest just below Nico Robin's shoulder blades. She raises her right and closes her fingers over Law's, her other hand nestled in the centre of his spine. "Still got two left feet, terminarch?"

That's why he used his Room to teleport rather than running, he thought. Two left feet were slightly more elegant than Cora's gait of no co-ordinates at all. Zoro's sense of direction.

His breath skates over her face as he laughs and centres. "Been practicing with Bepo."

"Best I take the lead then?" Neither of them are wearing heels after all.

"Perhaps."

She steps forward with her left then right and Law follows, always willing to adapt circumstances to his own advantage, whether from necessity or choice.

**Author's Note:**

> The Law/Robin tag has very few fics on AO3. They're very close in age, personality and experience, to my thinking, so it interests me that not much is generated. Of course I usually like to write them platonically and love friendship Law & Robin fics. Nothing much happens here, but I hope it appeals to a few readers.
> 
> Oh, this is all about [terminarchs and endlings](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Endling). I'm playing a bit loosely with the expressions.
> 
> Thanks for reading. All feedback is appreciated. Rare pair kudos help rare pair representation ;-). Don’t have an account, but liked it? Don’t worry, the kudos button (and/or comment box) still love you (me too) :-) Though I guess this didn’t hit a chord with Robin/Law fans? Healthy hits, but not much feedback (thanks to those who left it though). Maybe I’ll get the right balance next time. Tough crowd out there...
> 
> My [tumblr.](https://chromatic-lamina.tumblr.com/)


End file.
